


Hitchhiking

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-03
Updated: 2009-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Green, bug-eyed monsters demolish the Earth to make way for a hyperspace express route. At least, that's what the people of Earth are told.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nicholas and this was not one of them. Danny had decided to spend the day in Buford Abbey, spending money at the video store, leaving Nicholas at the station with Walker and his dog, Saxon. Well, there was Kyle Turner, reading behind a Lexan shield as always, but he was feeling exceptionally grumpy today, scaring even Nicholas off into hiding. He was in his office, pretending to be busy with paperwork that didn't need to be filled out when Walker opened the door, mumbling something that Nicholas could not, and probably never would understand.

"I'm sorry?" Nicholas said, looking up from his desk.

Walker repeated himself quickly before leaving the office, giving Nicholas no choice but to follow if he wanted to know what the man was trying to say. As he shut his door, he noticed Sergeant Turner making his way across the floor, stopping when he saw Nicholas.

"Oi," he said flatly. "Got a call out to Elroy Farm."

"And?" Nicholas asked, certain that there was a reason behind the call.

Sergeant Turner only shrugged as he began his retreat to his Lexan box. "I'unno. Nobody tells me nothin'."

Nicholas sighed and returned to his office to fetch his hat and notepad. Judging by the fact that Walker was trying, rather clumsily, to attach the lead to Saxon's collar, Nicholas assumed that's what the man had tried to tell him in his office. Shaking his head, the inspector quickly made his way back to the locker room, fetching up an over-sized towel from the general mess that no one ever seemed to clean up. Towel acquired and lead attached, the officers made their way out to the Impreza sitting outside; a vehicle choice that Danny had been very fond of. Nicholas laid out the towel on the back seat before allowing the dog to climb inside, amazed at the animal's obedience. Confident in his vague memory of where the farm was located, the inspector opted to drive, finding his way with minimal convoluted guidance from his accompanying officer. They arrived to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. No mass weapon storages or sea mines. No shotgun-wielding grandmothers. Not even any swans. Just... nothing.

And that was out of the ordinary.

Nothing was going on. Never mind the swans; there were no birds at all. The horses that generally roamed the area were missing. Not even any wind. The area was totally silent.

Except for Saxon, who had began barking up at the sky. Walker began yanking on the dog’s lead, but stopped struggling with the animal once he looked up in the sky, finding himself suddenly unable to move. He mumbled something that sounded incomplete, absently waving his hand at Nicholas.

"Officer, please quiet your dog," he said simply, still looking over acres of tall green grass that wasn't moving, because there was no wind.

Standing next to the Impreza, Nicholas could feel the vehicle begin vibrating. Startled, he looked all around, him, glancing upward only for lack of anywhere else to glance.

That was when he saw what Saxon was barking at. Large yellow hulks of mass that hung in the air exactly the way bricks don’t. Nicholas' initial reaction was that quiet country life had finally gotten to him. He'd gone mental, just like every other resident of Sandford.

And then the Impreza began talking.

 _"People of Earth, your attention, please,"_ the Impreza said, every bolt and welded seam vibrating in a resonance that put Nicholas' new stereo to shame. _"This is Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz of the Galactic Hyperspace Planning Council."_ As the Impreza continued making these new sounds, it occurred to Nicholas that it wasn't talking; it was transmitting.

_"As you will no doubt be aware, the plans for development of the outlying regions of the Galaxy require the building of a hyperspatial express route through your star system, and regrettably your planet is one of those scheduled for demolition. The process will take slightly less than two of your Earth minutes. Thank you."_

Saxon finally stopped barking at the object above them, and instead took to cowering at Walker's heels, who for once, had nothing to mumble. The officers could only stand in the tall grass, terrified and confused. The Impreza began vibrating again.

_"There's no point in acting all surprised about it. All the planning charts and demolition orders have been on display in your local planning department in Alpha Centauri for fifty of your Earth years, so you've had plenty of time to lodge a formal complaint and it's far too late to start making a fuss about it now."_

"Alpha Centauri?" Nicholas muttered, certain that too much fresh air had damaged his brain. "What?"

The Impreza jolted back to life with a violent start. _"What do you mean, you've never been to Alpha Centauri? For heaven's sake, mankind, it's only four light-years away, you know. I'm sorry, but if you can't be bothered to take an interest in local affairs that's your own lookout._

"Energize the demolition beams."

Suddenly, Saxon broke free of Walker's grip and leapt through the Impreza's open window, though Nicholas simply couldn't find it in himself to yell at the dog or its keeper.

 _"I don't know,"_ the voice being transmitted through the auto said, _"apathetic bloody planet, I've no sympathy at all."_

Nicholas expected that the world was going to cease existing. He expected that it was all going to end in a fantastic bright, blinding light with a lot of pain. What he didn't expect was being tackled by both Walker and his dog at the same instant.  
Not for the first time in his life, Nicholas was certain that he was dead. When the police station exploded because of a sea mine in the evidence room, Nicholas was certain that he'd woken up dead. When Danny pretended to stab him with his giant cartoon knife, Nicholas could have sworn that his heart stopped out of pure shock. When Father Christmas actually stabbed him, Nicholas wished he was dead, if only just to get away from the pain.

This was like none of those times, which was why he was so sure of it this time. There was no heavenly bright light. No. He came back around to dark. And a horrible stink. God, what was that stink? A moment later, Nicholas realized that no, he wasn't dead. He felt like he was going to be sick, and parts of his body were completely numb. Walker mumbled something, somewhere off in the dark. Nicholas assumed the officer was feeling much the same way as he was, but abandoned that theory when Walker mumbled the same set of syllables, only more forcefully.

"What the hell was that?" Nicholas asked, feeling that was sufficient to answer the man.

Walker mumbled something else. Even in the dark, Nicholas knew that he was now leaning over him, but couldn't find the energy to do anything about it. It wasn't like the floor was terribly uncomfortable, anyway.

"Why do I feel like I was just hit by a train..." Nicholas went on to himself, having given up long ago on trying to converse with Walker. "And what on Earth were those things?"

The older officer mumbled something lengthy, having not realized that Nicholas had long ago given up on trying to converse with him.

"And why aren't we dead?" Nicholas continued, his mind forming a billion questions at once, although most of them were just different variations of the ones he'd already asked.

Walker sighed and Saxon, apparently hiding off in the dark somewhere, whined softly. Before Nicholas had the chance to ask another question, which he had no way of knowing had already been answered, Walker was on the floor, attacking the inspector's head. Nicholas' heart was barely in his struggle until he felt something wet slip into his ear. At once, he began thrashing his legs while trying to dig into his ear, hoping to retrieve whatever had just taken residence in there.

"Oi! Oi! Hey, calm down!"

Nicholas froze, his finger still in his ear. Someone else was in the room. He instinctively reached for his badge, opening it and holding it in front of himself like a shield.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"Nicholas, just stay calm. Bob, find the lights."

Walker mumbled something and shuffled off in the dark. After banging around for a few moments, he mumbled something else, and light flickered throughout the very dirty room. Nicholas looked around frantically, finding no one but the other officer and his dog.

"Where are we?" Nicholas asked, finally taking his finger from his ear, though still holding his badge in front of him.

"We are in the Dentrassi sleeping quarters on a Vogon constructor ship." The voice was unmistakably coming from Saxon. "And we have to leave. Now.”

“I'm sorry?" Nicholas asked, going back to his original theory that country living had made him go mad.

Saxon looked over at Walker, who had gone to searching the mouldy walls for something. "There's no time to explain," the dog said. "We really can't be here. If the Vogons find us, we're done."

Nicholas shrugged. "Oh, yes. Of course." He figured he might as well run with this hallucination, or whatever it was. Maybe if he cooperated, it would reach the end sooner and he could go back to sitting in his office, bored. "And then we can all go out for shepherd's pie and tea when we're out of here."

Walker mumbled something.

"That does sound nice, doesn't it?" Saxon asked.

Nicholas finally folded his badge shut and slipped it into his pocket. "Right," he said to himself. He sat back down on the floor “And maybe afterwards we can go see a film somewhere?" he asked, as he watched walker pull a pipe from the wall.

Saxon made a small whining noise. “Walker, do you have a Guide?" he asked.

Walker mumbled something that sounded negative.

"We'll have to get you a Guide," Saxon said off-handedly.

"Of course," Nicholas said simply, trying not to upset whatever was happening. “And from where in my subconscious are you from, then? I must have hit my head if I’m talking with a dog.”

Saxon looked as though he was going to say something (although, it was entirely possible that he was just preparing to lick his own genitals) when Walker shouted something excitedly from across the room, finally managing to dislodge the pipe from the wall.

"Grab the towel!" Saxon instructed, nudging the towel Nicholas had grabbed from the locker room across the floor.

In no mood to argue with a talking dog, Nicholas snatched the towel up from the floor and joined Walker and Saxon on the other end of the room. With one hand in what was left of the pipe on the wall, he grabbed tightly onto Nicholas' arm, while the dog bit into his leg. Nicholas would have cried out in pain, if not for the fact that he was suddenly unaware of anything.

  



	2. Chapter 2

  


Nicholas wanted to be sick. In fact, he was quite certain he was going to be, upon regaining consciousness to Saxon lapping at his face. Groaning, he rolled out from under the dog, finding himself looking at what could only be described as a rather phallic rubbish bin.

"Welcome," it said, its voice sounding like it had been looped through an asthmatic amplifier that had seen one too many Peter Frampton concerts.

A second talking rubbish bin glided across the smooth floor to the group of Earth travellers who apparently mostly weren't even from Earth, holding a small bowl in what seemed to serve as awkward, unbending arms, a plunger-like suction device holding onto its deep sides. "Eat," it said. "You need salt." Saxon and Walker eagerly took one of the small, sponge-like balls each, eating the substance with no objection. "Eat," the metallic creature repeated at Nicholas, nudging the tray closer to his face.

Nervously, Nicholas took the remaining spongish foodstuff from the tray, hoping that whatever substance it contained that his human body would certainly be unable to handle would kill him quickly, and with minimal suffering. Biting into the quite literally alien snack, he found that it was not entirely unlike Jaffa Cakes, with hints of tastes that weren't entirely unlike orange and chocolate.

"Thank you," he said weakly, nodding at the creature in front of him. Looking around the room they were now inhabiting, Nicholas realized that there were nearly a dozen of the metal creatures surrounding them. "Hold on," he said to Saxon, pointing at the creature nearest to him. "It's...a machine. Isn't it?"

"So?" the dog that wasn't really a dog asked.

"That's... impossible." Nicholas got to his hands and knees, daring to inch closer to the creature.

"Not impossible," the creature said, apparently unfazed at Nicholas' blatant disregard for manners. "Nothing is impossible. Only improbable."

Not having the energy to argue with a creature that could very likely have bi-polar issues, and decide to kill the three of them at the first sign of conflict, Nicholas returned to a seated position on the floor, trying to make himself look as small and unthreatening as possible. "So, what's the plan, then?" he asked.

Walker mumbled something.

"Oh, I'd love to," Saxon replied. "Got any change on you?"

Walker dug through his pockets and pulled out a handful of familiar coins, mumbling something to himself.

"Yeah, I suppose we could sell the copper for the deposit. Rare stuff, in some areas."

"Actually," Nicholas said slowly. "Pennies aren't copper. They're just copper-plated steel."

Saxon looked into the small collection of coins in Walker's hand. "Even that’s worth a fortune in some areas," he said. "Unless you’d rather donate genetic material for cash?”

Nicholas was certain he hadn't just heard what he thought he did, and shook his head slowly. “Wait, what do you mean, cash?” he demanded. “You can’t seriously be suggesting that we’re staying here? We’ve got to have a better plan than just selling pennies? What about—“

"Nicholas. Nicholas!" Saxon said, getting close enough for Nicholas to smell the kibble on his breath. "Shut up!" Saxon and Walker followed one of the talking rubbish bins out of the room. "I've always wanted to say that," Saxon said. Walker mumbled something in return.

One of the talking rubbish bins glided over to Nicholas, stopping only inches from the inspector. "Come," it said, rotating slightly. "We can take you to the restaurant. It will only be a moment before arrival."

Nicholas wanted to argue the logic of arriving at a restaurant in mere moments after deciding to go. He wanted to argue against selling fake copper. He wanted to ask a million unanswered questions about why Earth had been obliterated by evil green bug-eyed monsters.

"Yeah, okay," he said weakly, getting to his feet. He followed the creature out of the room they had materialized in, reaching a corridor as the entire ship lurched violently. Still on shaky legs, Nicholas fell into the creature, launching into an endless stream of apology, as he still wasn't totally convinced that their hosts wouldn't turn on them in an instant. In his incoherent babbling, he barely noticed that the creature’s armour had quite badly seared the palm of his hand.

"Please be careful," the creature said, backing off slightly to give Nicholas room. "No need to apologize." It rotated to face a wall, and after fiddling with a panel in much the same manner as an R2 unit would, a door slid open. "Ah. Here are your companions," it said, moving toward Walker and Saxon. "We'll drop you in the parking garage."

"Thanks," Saxon said cheerily. "I dare not think what would have happened if those Vogon sons of narches had found us on their ship."

Walker mumbled something.

"Travel safe," their host said as a larger door slid open, revealing a large, apparently underground parking structure for space ships.

Nicholas followed Walker and Saxon out of the ship, finally knowing what it was to experience complete and total "switching off." It took him several long moments to bring a single thought to his mind, let alone vocalize it.

"Fifteen minutes ago," he started slowly, "we were standing in a field near Elroy Farm."

"Yes," Saxon said.

"Ten minutes ago, we were beamed on board some space ship, just above where Earth used to be?"

"Yes, Nicholas. I was there," Saxon said, sounding mildly annoyed.

"And now, we're in a parking garage? Ten minutes from Earth?"

"No," Saxon said, stopping for a moment to look up at Nicholas. "We are at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Milliway's."

"It takes ten minutes to get from Earth to the end of the universe?"

"Wrong again." Saxon started across the parking garage once more. "Were at the end of time. In about one Earth hour, the universe around us will cease to be."

"Time travel?"

"Yes."

The trio passed by a muttering android, going on about sticking its head in a bucket, as they entered the restaurant, which was occupied by more types of creatures than in all of Danny's science fiction DVDs combined. Walker led the way up to the bar, mumbling something to the blue man behind the counter. Nicholas dared to lean against the counter, its rough texture alerting him to the damage done to his hand.

"And for you two, then?" the bartender asked.

"Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster," Saxon said. The blue man looked nervously at the dog before turning his attention to Nicholas.

"And you?"

Nicholas took a moment before saying, "Uhm...."

"I've never heard of that, before," the blue man behind the counter said. "What's in it?"

Nicholas realised that he was being talked to, and was ready to respond when he heard a voice waiver over the crowd. "No! I just want some tea! Tea! Why don't you know what that is?"

The inspector turned slowly away from the blue man behind the counter, holding his healthy hand up politely. "Hang on," he said, training his gaze on what appeared to be a man. In a dressing gown. A rather angry man in a dressing gown, in fact, and a woman who tried to calm her companion down. Momentarily forgetting that he was surrounded by creatures from all across time and space, Nicholas made his way across the crowded restaurant, stopping beside the...man that was causing problems.

"Excuse me," Nicholas said, making a point to not look at the two-headed, three-armed being sitting at the table. "Is there an issue over here?"

The man in the tattered green dressing gown didn't even look up. "I just want a cup of tea, two sugars, and a biscuit. I've explained this to your staff enough times by now..." He pounded his fist against the table, accenting each item.

"Arthur," his female friend said, patting his arm. "You know how this place works."

"Well, sir," Nicholas said, reaching under his stab vest. "I can't help you with the biscuits, but I do always keep a few bags of Earl Grey on me." He handed the tea bag out for the traveller to take.

The man called Arthur looked up at Nicholas, his jaw completely slack. "You...you...you're from Earth!" He stuttered as he took the tea bag, grinning madly. He turned to look at his companion briefly before standing to address the inspector. "I thought we were the only ones left! Please! Join us!" Nicholas allowed himself to be pulled down next to Arthur and his friend, finding himself sitting directly across from the two-headed man. "My name is Arthur, this is Trillian," Arthur said, motioning to his female friend. "And this is Zaphod and Ford." He motioned to the two men across the table who appeared to be involved in a game of some sort, and far too busy for any ruckus Arthur was causing. "Trillian and I have been travelling with them for...oh, I don't even know how long, any more." Arthur never stopped smiling, clearly thrilled at meeting someone else from Earth. "So, you're a cop?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yes," he said curtly. "Inspector Nicholas Angel."

"No." Arthur's jaw went slack again. "I thought I recognized you! Sandford, yeah?"

Nicholas nodded politely. "Yes, that's right." It began to dawn on him that he was officially an endangered species.

"Real shame about what happened there. I lived just outside of town, and I had no idea anything was going on until I got the paper the next morning."

"What did you mean when you said you'd explained something to the staff 'enough times'?" Nicholas asked, ignoring Arthur's comment. "You've... been here before?"

Arthur nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I lost count how many times we've been here. Takes a few times to get used to it, but once you get over the cows, it's really a lovely place." He looked around the restaurant, smiling at the eclectic crowd.

Nicholas leaned forward, putting his hands on the table, clenching his jaw tightly. "Twenty minutes ago, I was responding to a call in west Gloucestershire."

Arthur and Trillian both covered their mouths with their hands. As though taking a cue, Zaphod and Ford got up from their seats, making a line straight for the bar.

"Oh, goodness," Trillian said quietly.

"It didn't even occur to me," Arthur said unevenly. "I'm... so sorry."

"And you're telling me that you've been here too many times to count?" The talking rubbish bins had nothing on Arthur and his green dressing gown.

Arthur grimaced slightly and looked past Nicholas to Trillian. "Well, time isn't linear," he said slowly. "It jumbles up. Goes every which way." He kept his gaze fixed on Trillian, as though expecting some sort of confirmation for everything he said. "They demolished Earth twenty minutes ago on your time line, but we've been out here for... years." Trillian nodded, as though allowing Arthur to continue. "This restaurant acts as the one... common... point in which all time lines meet."

Trillian nodded again, smiling slightly. "You wouldn't believe how long it took him to understand even that much," she said.

"Hey, Trillian. That replication drive on the Heart of Gold." Arthur said quickly, holding up the tea bag Nicholas had offered, driving the present conversation straight into a ditch and leaving it there to rust. "Could it replicate this?"

"As long as it has an original to replicate," Trillian said. "It can't replicate a replication."

Arthur smiled as he slipped the tea bag into his pocket. "Inspector," he said, slapping the table lightly. "Would you care to join us for tea on our space ship after dinner?"  
Nicholas sat in the man's space ship (which, as it turned out, wasn't even his), leaning over a cup that was not entirely unlike Styrofoam. He'd watched the man called Arthur have a row with a talking wall before putting a teabag into a small white box, after which ten "copies" fell out of the bottom into a small mesh basket, causing him to practically shake with delight. Arthur tacked the original onto the wall with a sticky residue, made himself and Nicholas a cup of tea each, and led the inspector over to a small dining area.

"Sugar?" Arthur asked, reaching for a small glass bowl.

Nicholas shook his head weakly, still amazed with the salve Arthur’s female friend had given him for his hand. He ran his thumb across his palm, amazed that the skin wasn’t even red. "No, thank you," he barely managed, looking up in time to see Arthur putting blue-tinted sugar cubes into his cup. "That's... sugar?" he asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Close enough," he said, blissfully drinking his sweetened beverage.

According to the Guide, there are only two places in the galaxy at which to acquire natural granulated sugar, a popular additive in many foods and beverages across the universe. The first was a backwater planet called Earth, which until recently, was inhabited by a race of beings that believed they were the only sentient creatures in the galaxy. This belief was, of course, brought to a speedy end when Earth was demolished to make way for a hyperspatial express route.

The second place in the galaxy known to produce sugar is a moon which circles an uninhabitable planet near Aldebaran. Unlike the sugar on Earth, which was easily harvested, the sugar from Aldebaran needs to be extracted from mines which lie miles beneath the rocky surface. Countless workers lose their lives in the mines, but countless more would surely suffer if the supply of natural sweetener ever ran dry, due to a certain ingrained need in all sentient life to sweeten nearly everything they consume.

Aldebaran sugar is exactly identical to Earth sugar, except for a very distinct colouring of blue to the granules.

Some civilizations have tried to manufacture synthetic sugars, but at the cost of halting all forms of evolution, thus resulting in the slow extinction of the entire race.

"How long have you been..." Nicholas couldn't make himself finish the sentence. Instead, he just looked back down at his tea, which he really wasn't in the mood to drink.

Arthur sighed and looked up toward the low ceiling. "You sort of lose track of time out here," he said honestly. "I don't think it's been a full decade, but it's probably coming close."

"Where did you live, before..." He tried not to think about the context of "before." For Arthur, Earth was just a distant memory, but Nicholas could still smell swan in his uniform.

"Not too far from you, actually," Arthur said. For a moment, Nicholas wondered how the man knew where he lived, taking several moments to remember having been all over national news not even a year earlier. "Just outside of town. If it was clear enough, I could make out Spencer Hill." He finished off his tea and got up to fix himself a second cup, laughing to himself. "You know, the day the Vogons came round, my house was actually torn down for that bypass. Next thing I know, Ford's dragging me off to the pub, force-feeding me peanuts."

Nicholas sighed. "Danny begged me to go to Buford Abbey with him, today," he said, more to himself than to Arthur. "I didn't want to call off just to go buy DVDs with him, and..."

Arthur sighed and moved closer to Nicholas, setting his cup on the table. "Hey," he said, trying to help Nicholas to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up and settled in. We're going to meet someone important, and it would be best if you didn't, well, smell like a farm animal."

Nicholas allowed himself to be guided across the expansive ship to the living quarters, forcing himself to ignore everything but the very boring, albeit completely ordinary floor. Simple, plain white tile that seemed to neither talk nor do anything special, aside from not fall out from under your feet, which is exactly what any good floor should do.

"So, your friends..." Arthur started, not sure how to address the inspector's travelling companions.

"A constable I've never been able to understand, and a talking dog," Nicholas calmly informed him. "Seems like they'll fit in just fine."

"Right." Arthur pushed a small, blue-silver panel on the wall, triggering a door to slide open into a small bunk; about the same size as the room he'd lived in after his separation with Janine. He hadn't thought about her in several months, but now that he'd never see her again, along with anyone else, except from one very strange man from the West Country, Nicholas wasn't sure he ever wanted to think about anything at all. He didn’t even properly say goodbye the last time they spoke; just showed her up in a fit of single-mindedness. Arthur left Nicholas alone without farewell, figuring it might be best to give him a bit of space.

The inspector slowly took off his stab vest and his belt -- and by proxy, all the gear attached -- and put them gently on the bunk. Leaning over the small washbasin in the corner, Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands. There was no reason to ever look at his gear again. He wasn't a police officer anymore; not an inspector with the Sandford -- or any other British -- constabulary, by any rate. He could wear the uniform and carry the badge, but they no longer meant anything. Just words and symbols that held no worth to anyone beyond the walls of the Heart of Gold.

Nicholas was startled upright when the door behind him slid open suddenly. He turned around, finding one of the men -- the one with only one head -- from the restaurant.

"Sorry," he said, stuttering in his step, slightly. "Should have knocked."

Nicholas shook his head. "No," he said. "It's fine." It really wasn't, but it was easier to lie.

The man called Ford held up an old suede jacket. "Might need this," he said, offering it to Nicholas. "Might be a bit cold, where we're going."

"I'm sorry?" They'd only just arrived, and they were leaving again. Nicholas took the jacket, but hesitated to put it on. "Where are we going?"

Ford smiled kindly. "Zaphod has a meeting with this consortium of bankers and investors," he explained. "We're just trying to figure out how to get there, now."

It made perfect sense. This ragtag group of interstellar nomads had a big fancy ship, and no sense of navigation. He wouldn’t be surprised if the ship were stolen. "You don't know where the meeting is?" Nicholas asked, trying not to sound condescending, despite the seeming illogic of scheduling a meeting without getting directions. "Can't you just tell the on board navigation systems where to go?" It occurred to Nicholas that they would have had the GPS installed in both Imprezas in about two days' time; clearly no excuse for a space ship to not have on board navigation.

Ford took a moment to process Nicholas' question before shaking his head slightly. "No, we know where it is," he said. "Trouble is, the meeting's not for a few hundred centuries, so we need the Improbability Drive."

"I'm sorry?"

"The Improbability Drive," Ford repeated easily as he leaned against the door frame. "It can take you anywhere, and any time, so long as you know the improbability factor of being there at that precise moment."

Nicholas considered that for a moment. "Hang on," he said slowly. "If you know this thing can take you anywhere, wouldn't that mean that you'd already know that you'd be there for the meeting anyway, and make the... whatever factor zero percent?"

At that moment, the entire universe completely ceased to exist.

  



	3. Chapter 3

  


Nicholas looked around cautiously. He was, thankfully, still in his bunk on the ship. Ford was still there, and, in an almost oddly comforting way, seemed just as confused about what had just happened as the inspector felt.

"What was that?" he ventured, slowly pulling on Ford's jacket.

The two-headed pilot of the ship rushed down the corridor and into Nicholas' bunk, followed not-so-closely by Trillian. "Hey, another monkey-man," he said excitedly, pointing to Nicholas. "Let's go!"

"What, we're there?" Ford asked, following Zaphod out to the corridor. "How?"

"No idea," Zaphod admitted.

"Someone tricked the drive," Trillian explained.

"Really? Can we do that every time, then?" Ford asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, casually.

Trillian shook her head. "No," she said. "Even if we did know how it was done, the computer would have learned the fault and will close that circuit so it can't happen again."

They met up with Arthur on the bridge, working on another fresh cup of tea while talking excitedly with Walker about something. Well, at least as excited as Walker ever managed to get. Once the group gathered, they started off for the hatch, but were stopped by an angry guard with a big gun and the face of a rhino at the main airlock.

"Satellite Five is under construction," he informed them with a growl. "Visiting parties are limited to four members."

Ford took a step backwards from the creature. "Eh, you've seen one space base, you've seen them all, right?" he said nervously. Walker mumbled something in return, and he and Saxon followed Ford back onto the Heart of Gold.

"Well, that leaves four!" Zaphod announced cheerily, throwing one of his arms around Trillian's shoulders. "Let's go, monkey-men!"

As they passed the armed guard, Nicholas couldn't help but stare at the creature. It seemed to definitely hold some sort of authority, judging by its uniform. It didn't occur to him until he'd been staring for too long that he was being impolite, but the creature seemed to neither care nor take notice in one human looking at it strangely. They followed Zaphod, who seemed to be growing more and more nervous as they walked, down the corridor and to the main lift.

"That thing said this is a satellite," Nicholas said quietly to Arthur. "What... planet are we orbiting?"

Arthur shrugged as the group entered the lift. "How should I know?" he asked.

"Hey, look at that!" Zaphod cried out suddenly, as he looked at the panel that controlled the lift. He pointed at scribbled writing on the wall.

_Zaphod is a goit._

"That talking about me?" he asked. When no one responded immediately, he seemed to lose interest. Zaphod shrugged. "What floor are we going to?"

"The top," Trillian reminded him. "Floor five-hundred."  
Only Zaphod had been allowed into the only room on floor five-hundred that wasn't the lift; everyone else was made to wait in a specially cordoned off area on a small bench by another rhino guard. It seemed as though they weren't actually any authority beyond hired muscle, but they were certainly frightening enough to not need a shiny badge or a standardized training course. "Interplanetary thugs" were the words Trillian thought best described the creatures, and Arthur and Nicholas were inclined to agree.

From behind the massive door, Nicholas could sometimes hear a familiar screeching, metallic voice, but he was unable to make out what the creature was saying, only that it seemed annoyed with the two-headed ship captain, and whatever nonsense he was trying to sell. Each time their wailing changed pitch, Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin. It would not have surprised Nicholas in the least to hear a laser beam ZAP from behind the door and a lot of screaming, at the rate Zaphod seemed to be going.

It did surprise him, however, when Zaphod burst through the door, grinning madly.

"How'd it go?" Arthur asked as he quickly stood.

"See for yourself, Monkeyman," Zaphod said, tossing him a small black fabric bag.

Arthur opened the bag and immediately covered his mouth with his free hand.

"That's just a down-payment," Zaphod informed smugly, snatching the bag away from Arthur. "I get the rest when the network goes live next month."

"Next month?" Trillian asked. "That's a little... fast, isn't it?"

Zaphod shrugged and turned toward the lift. "How should I know?" he asked. "Not like I ever did this before, or anything."  
Marvin, the resident android of the Heart of Gold, was sulking on the secondary deck, when the blue box began to noisily fade into existence. He knew he was supposed to raise an alarm of some sort and protect the ship and its crew, but he had far more important things to worry about. Namely, wondering why a machine as sophisticated as he was had been reduced to simple cabin boy duties.

Once it was done taking its time in landing, or whatever it was blue boxes were meant to do, the door flew open excitedly.

"Welcome...home," The Doctor said, stopping his companion from stepping out of the box.

"What's happened?" she asked, reaching cautiously for the older man. "I thought you said this was London."

"It is," The Doctor said, staring slack-jawed at the vast expanse of space that lay before them. "Or, was, actually. But it's gone."

The girl called Rose moved closer to her travelling mate. "There's nothing," she said. "If something happened, there should at least be... pieces left, shouldn't there? Everything's gone."

The Doctor rubbed his short-cut hair with his fingers, meditating on Rose's observation. "Very true," he said slowly. "Wait... Hang on."

He started to lean out of his police box space-time ship, but Rose grabbed him, tugging him back. "Doctor!" she said, startled.

The Doctor gently pushed her back and pulled his jumper sleeve over one of his hands. "Let me just..." he started, leaning out of the TARDIS and reaching out into space, Rose still clutching onto his jacket. They both jumped slightly when the Doctor's hand seemed unable of moving any further away, as though stuck by a force field of some sort. "It's smudged," the Doctor said with a chuckle, rubbing the knit fabric against the small bit of oily residue that seemed to hang onto nothing. "Space is smudged."

"What?" Rose reached out, both relieved and frightened when her hand touched cold glass. She watched as the Doctor tried to squeeze himself between the TARDIS and the window. Eventually, he gave up and with some effort, pushed the space-time ship across what turned out to be a very smooth floor. Once the gap had been considerably widened, the two stepped out of the TARDIS and onto the strange deck, which was most certainly not London in any shape or form.

"What are you doing here?" Marvin asked accusingly when the Doctor and Rose stepped into his view. The travellers stopped suddenly, startled at the android's presence.

"Well, hello, there," the Doctor said cheerily. "What's your name, then?"

Marvin began walking away from the new people. "It doesn't really matter, does it? You'll just ignore me like all the rest, anyway." He slowly walked away, leaving the Doctor and Rose alone on the deck.

"What was that?" Rose asked, growing more confused by the moment.

"Sirius Cybernetics," the Doctor answered, slightly concerned. "'Genuine people personalities,' but it's all wrong. They're usually bright, and friendly, and fun to be around, but something definitely went wrong with that one."

"Oh." Rose didn't even bother pretending to understand a word of it. "What would cause that, then?"

The Doctor adjusted his jacket and made to follow the android. "That's the real question, inn'it?" he asked cheerily.

They followed Marvin's tracks, both watching as the door slid open for them. "Please watch your step," the door said happily.

"Oh, thank you," the Doctor said with a smile, having not noticed a single stair just a few feet into the corridor, which he would have most certainly tripped over.

He and Rose followed the corridor cautiously, having somehow already managed to lose the android, despite being no other corridors or rooms to turn into. The only alternative being to turn back round and return to the TARDIS, they pressed on. After a few moments, they were able to hear voices at the end of the corridor. Whoever was already on the ship sounded friendly enough -- the android aside -- so the Doctor led Rose even more quickly through the corridor. They soon found themselves coming up on the main bridge, where the crew seemed to be reconvening from a mission or something. Well, most of them, anyway -- one chap was standing round in pyjamas and a dressing gown.

"Hello," he announced happily, interrupting whatever conversation the crew was having.

"Oh, now who is this?" Zaphod said as he threw all three hands into the air. "More grubby hitchhikers? Who let you on?"

"Oi!" Ford spat out, knocking Arthur on the shoulder, somehow expecting to get a reaction from the man. Instead, Arthur spilled tea on his front and sneered at the man.

"No, not quite," the Doctor informed them, slowly walking round the bridge. "We are a bit lost, though. We were trying to get to Earth, and instead we wound up here." He picked up a small device from a work console. "Broken," he muttered as he carelessly tossed it aside. “Where is ‘here,’ by the way?”

Trillian quickly moved over to the main console, working the computer hurriedly. "That's very interesting," she said more to herself than anything. "We rematerialized between what would have been Earth's fifty-first and fifty-second parallel."

"Wonder what the odds of that are," Ford said lightly. 

Nearly everyone that was present on the bridge laughed at the news, except for Nicholas. Sighing deeply, he got up from the bench he'd been camped out on, and quickly walked away from the group. The Doctor started to follow after, but Zaphod reached out and grabbed onto his jacket.

"So, then, if you're not a hitchhiker, then what are you?" he asked, trying to sound like the tough captain that everyone knew he wasn't.

The Doctor smiled gamely. "I'm the Doctor," he said happily, wrapping an arm around Rose's shoulder. "This is Rose."

Zaphod’s face lit up, any trace of failed menacing vanished. "A Doctor?" he said, taking a quick step back. "Take a look at this for me, would you?" He pulled back his jacket collar and tilted his left head back.

"I think it's a third head," Ford said honestly.

The Doctor took a step backwards, pulling Rose with him. "I'm not that kind of a doctor. Sorry." He looked around the bridge quickly. "And who are you, then?"

Zaphod flashed a plastic, toothy smile and extended one of his hands. "Zaphod Beeblebrox," he said happily. "Former President of the Galaxy."

The Doctor eagerly shook Zaphod's hand. "Of course!" he said. "I voted for you, just so you know. Though, in all honesty, I did think I was voting for the worst-dressed sentient being in the galaxy."

Zaphod laughed shortly. "Hey, whatever, man," he said. "It's the vote that counts, right?" He turned his attention to Rose. "Are you a doctor, too?" he asked with a wink.

Rose shook her head and took a step backwards. "No," she said. She turned slightly and pointed to the corridor Nicholas had retreated down. "Who was that, then? Just walked off."

"That?" Zaphod asked. "Don't worry about him, babe. He's no one. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you, though."

Rose stepped closer to the Doctor, both exchanging concerned glances.

"So, tell me," the Doctor said suddenly. "What's it like being president?"

Zaphod jumped onto the opportunity to talk about himself, leading the Doctor away, slightly. Convinced that the man wouldn't notice, Rose quickly slipped away from the group, following after the blond man that had left so suddenly. She found him in the kitchen area, sitting up on a counter with his head resting against a porthole.

"Hey," she said softly, not wanting to frighten him. From what she could tell, he wasn't a regular member of the crew. The police shirt he wore under his jacket was indication enough. "You all right?"

Nicholas shrugged.

"I'm Rose," she said, walking slowly toward him. "What's your name?"

"In-- Nicholas," he said flatly. "Just Nicholas."

"You're from Earth, then?" she asked hesitantly. Nicholas nodded. "How'd you get up here?"

Nicholas shook his head. "If I knew, I'd tell you," he said. "One minute, I was responding to a call, and the next..."

Rose pulled herself up onto the counter, next to Nicholas. “The Doctor'll figure it out," she said hopefully. "He always does."

Nicholas shrugged again. "What about you?" he asked. "Where are you from?"

"London," she said. "We were going back to visit my mum, but we landed here, instead."

Nicholas looked up at Rose. "What do you mean, 'landed'?"

Rose smiled warmly and took Nicholas by the hand, gently pulling him off of the counter. "Come on," she said, smiling wickedly. "I'll show you."  
Rose led Nicholas down a corridor, through doors that that were happy to open and close as needed. Finally, they reached the observatory deck, where Nicholas nearly tripped over his own feet.

"That's..." he started, rushing over to the big blue box standing conspicuously in an otherwise empty space. He reached out to touch the box, running his hand flat against the surface. "It's a fake," he said, disappointment hinting at the edges of his voice, running his hand along the wood grain. "But regardless, what's it doing here?"

Rose stepped up behind Nicholas, more interested in the window looking out over countless stars and planets – one planet conspicuously missing. "It's our TARDIS," she said, turning round smoothly.

"TARDIS?" Nicholas repeated dumbly.

"Time and relative dimensions in space," Rose explained slowly, calling back to remember what each of the letters stood for. "It's our time-travelling space ship."

Nicholas turned his head sharply to look at her. "It's a police box," he pointed out dumbly. “Well, it looks like, one, but the windows area all wrong, and the proportions.... But, it’s a police box.”

"Yep."

Nicholas turned his attention to the blue box, finding himself curious about what was in the compartment where the telephone was supposed to be. Amazingly, when he opened the panel, he found a telephone.  
The Doctor was standing on the bridge, marvelling over Eddie, the ship's on board computer with Zaphod, who seemed more interested in figuring out the function for a button he'd previously not noticed before. As the ship's captain verbally debated with himself over the pros and cons of pressing this strange new button, the Doctor examined the main terminal, more interested in what drove the ship. He leaned over the console to get a closer look at some of the lettering, startled when something in his jacket began vibrating rather violently. At first, he thought he had Rose's mobile on him, but quickly dismissed the idea when he realised it wasn't playing that upbeat little tone it had. He liked that tone, actually; it was a cheery little samba beat. He reached into his pocket, surprised to find his sonic screwdriver the source of the vibration.

"That's never done that before," he mused to himself as he held the tool at a distance, noticing that it wasn't just vibrating, but its blue glow pulsating in and out as well. Not sure what else to do, he pressed its activation button, finding himself both relieved and nervous when it stopped vibrating and glowing. Only, now it seemed to be...talking? Quite frantically, actually.

"That's impossible," he said incredulously.

One of Zaphod's heads looked up from the new button suddenly. "Nothing's impossible, man," he said, sounding like he knew from personal experience.

"No," the Doctor said firmly, pointing at the sonic device. "I'm pretty sure it's impossible." He brought the device up to his ear to better hear the chatter that was coming from within the mechanics. "Hello?" he asked cautiously.

Nicholas jumped back slightly at the voice on the telephone. "Yes, hello!" he said quickly, not wanting to question this mystery connection he'd managed to get.

"Who's this?" the voice on the other end demanded.

"This is Chief Inspector Nicholas Angel," he said officially. "Sandford constabulary. Gloucestershire. Hello?"

The man on the other end barked in laughter. "Put Rose on," he said simply.

Nicholas looked at the telephone, confused, before passing the receiver toward Rose. "He wants... to talk to you," he said cautiously.

Rose took the telephone slowly, not sure if Nicholas was putting her on or not. "Hello?" she asked lightly.

"You and your boyfriends," the Doctor said, sounding an odd mixture of disappointed and amused.

Rose smiled widely at the familiar voice. "What are we connected to?" she asked as Nicholas began to hover over her shoulder. "You said the telephone's fake."

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor said simply.

"I didn't know it had Bluetooth."

"It doesn't." The Doctor pressed the activate button on his sonic screwdriver again, and it seemed to shut off completely. "That's impossible," he repeated, despite evidence to the contrary.

"It's very possible." Trillian entered the bridge, eyeing Zaphod suspiciously. "Buttons are not toys," she reminded him quickly.

Zaphod stood up. "Not toys," he repeated.

"Possible, but not probable," Trillian explained as she neared the Doctor. "The ship's powered by the Infinite Improbability Drive. Within its confines, anything’s possible, as long as the drive is functional."

"You're kidding," the Doctor said, forgetting completely about the sonic screwdriver, slipping it easily into his pocket. "That's just a myth! A fairy tale engineers tell one another."

Trillian shrugged simply and shook her head. "They say that the drive materialized the ship around it," she said. "No one quite knows what the odds of that are."

The Doctor shrugged. "If I had to venture a guess," he said daringly, "I'd say probably about the same as this ship being in Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha just as I was trying to land in London."

“That’s right!” Eddie boomed happily. “A probability factor of two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against. Staggeringly high, if I do say so, myself.”

“Oh, stuff it, would you?” Zaphod grumbled.

  



	4. Chapter 4

Nicholas watched as Rose put the telephone back on the hook and shut the small compartment. "Wrong number," she said with a wink, unable to miss the dumbstruck expression that had washed itself over the inspector's face. "Come on," she said after a moment, when Nicholas flat out refused to stop staring at the telephone compartment. "I'll show you the inside."

"Inside?"

"Yes," Rose said patiently. "The inside." She opened the TARDIS door, stepping lightly inside. "Come on, then."

Jaw slack, Nicholas realised that he had nothing better to do and followed Rose inside. He stopped just after his first step.

"It's..." he started. He stepped out of the box, and quickly rand a circle around its painted blue exterior before rushing right back inside.

"Bigger on the inside," Rose said right along with him, secretly thrilled to finally get to say that bit. It was usually the Doctor that got that pleasure.

Nicholas took a few moments to find his voice. And then a few moments longer. And a few moments after that. "How?" he managed slowly, finally, looking around the room that simply should not have existed.

"Timelord technology," she said simply.

"Is that what you are?" Nicholas asked slowly.

"No," Rose said, trying not to giggle out of being polite. "I've already told you. I'm from London."

Nicholas nodded. He knew where London was. He’d grown up there. "Right."

The TARDIS door suddenly flew open, revealing that horrible sulking robot. "You're both wanted on the bridge," he said dully. "I can't, for the life of me, figure out why, though," he continued before shuffling away, letting the door swing shut behind him. His job had been completed, and now he was off to find a dark corner somewhere, where he could feel miserable. “Why do I even bother?”

Nicholas and Rose hesitated for a moment before closing up the TARDIS and returning to the bridge, finding the entire crew, and all its guests, lounging on the large circular sofa on the opposite side of the control panel. Why they were gathered, however, no one seemed to know or care. With Walker dozing, Saxon chewing on an old trainer, and Arthur drowning himself in yet another cup of tea, there really didn't seem to be any point to this meeting. Nicholas and Rose weren't even crew members, so he wasn't sure why they needed to be there in the first place.

"Good, you’re here," the Doctor said when he noticed Rose and Nicholas join the group. “Now,” he said, addressing the rest of the group. “Why are we here?”

“Forty two,” Ford said lazily. Arthur groaned and got up, presumably to make another cup of tea.

The Doctor shook his head. “No,” he said. “We were meant to land in London. Great Britain. Earth. Solar System. Where is it?”

There was an awkward shuffling as everyone tried to figure out of this man was intentionally having them on.

“Destroyed,” Trillian said simply.

Arthur snorted, sitting back down on the sofa. “Twice,” he said bitterly. “They did it a second time, just in case you missed it the first time round.”

The Doctor looked at the group of travellers and stepped back slowly, as though suddenly realising that they were all mad. Which, they very well may have been. “What?” he asked.

"Yeah,” Trillian confirmed. “I mean, we do tend to wander off course when we jump time, but I'm not sure how we wound up way back here."

"How far off course?" the Doctor asked cautiously.

Trillian shrugged. "Sometimes by entire universes," she said simply. "It's an easy correction--"

"You can't just jump between universes," the Doctor insisted. "The damage done is--"

"You're worse than the lot from the Campaign for Real Time," Arthur cut in, getting back to his feet. "It's not a big deal."

"What about Earth, then?" the Doctor asked accusingly. "Something that big doesn't just vanish."

"Enough about that stupid rock!" Arthur demanded suddenly. "I don't want to hear about it." He forgot about his tea and stomped off down the corridor.

But Nicholas did want to hear about it. He tried to think of something to say to excuse himself from the group, but failed miserably on that point, and just followed off after Arthur without saying a word. He found the man in his bunk. The door had been left open, but Nicholas still stopped at the door.

"You can come in," Arthur mumbled, slouched on the small cot he called his bed.

The bunk seemed well lived-in. Newspaper clippings in languages Nicholas had never seen and strange little cut-outs adorned the walls, and trinkets from most-likely all across the universe cluttered what little surface space there was. For a man that had been so far separated from his home, he seemed oddly comfortable living in quite literally, an alien environment.

"Sorry," Arthur said, straightening up. "I know it's all new to you, still, but..." he took a few moments to chose his words, "...it was a very long time ago, for me."

"I'm...not sure I follow," Nicholas said honestly. "How long have you been..."

Arthur inhaled deeply. “I was thirty when the Vogons demolished the Earth," he explained. He certainly didn't look anywhere near thirty, now. "I don't think I've been out here for longer than eight or nine years, but Trillian swears it's closer to fifteen." He shrugged.

Nicholas shuffled awkwardly. "Trillian's also..." he started.

"Yes," Arthur answered.

Nicholas couldn't quite tell, but he was certain he'd seen both Arthur and Trillian before. Unsure of everything, he looked around the small room once more, this time spotting a photograph of a young girl, looking none too happy about being photographed, attached to the small mirror. Arthur seemed to notice that Nicholas was staring at the photograph, and quickly got up from his bed. He took the photograph from the mirror, placing it face down on the cluttered counter top. "Come on," he said with a forced smile, leading Nicholas out of the bunk. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."  
Recently, a remarkable phenomenon on the subject of parallel universes has been discovered. After countless field trials, the galaxy's leading scientists have reached the conclusion that not only is pan-universal travel not as harmful as some would have us all to believe, but in fact, the single safest way to plan your holiday.

For example, should you travel to a parallel universe on the probability axis and visit a trendy night club, and should anything terrible happen to you, the trendy night club, or even the wholly insignificant planet on which the trendy night club was built, not only would you remain perfectly healthy and intact, but you would wake rested and refreshed in your own universe.

It's such a popular way to travel, that it's become increasingly difficult to know who is from which universe, that an unforeseen side effect has taken the form of a sharp decline in violent crimes against tourists, simply because none of them seem to have any sense of mortality any more, and are too busy darting out in front of articulated lorries without looking both directions before crossing the street.  
Nicholas leant against a counter that was part of a kitchen he would have expected to find Gordon Ramsay rushing about. Not some grubby man in a dressing gown who called a spaceship home. But it was the grubby man in the dressing gown that rushed back and forth, preparing sandwiches made with, has he described, Perfectly Normal Beast meat; which Nicholas logically pointed out that if the "Perfectly Normal" qualifier was required, then the beasts in question were clearly anything but. Arthur laughed to himself and returned to making sandwiches. When Nicholas said that he tried to avoid eating red meat as much as possible, Arthur proclaimed that nonsense, and pushed the small acrylic plate stacked with a sandwich into Nicholas' hand. Nicholas tried to say that he really wasn't hungry, but Arthur proclaimed that a blatant lie, reminding him that he'd already been on the ship for nearly two galactic days, during which time he'd subsided solely off unsugared tea. Out of options completely, Nicholas steeled himself, and ate the sandwich.

And he was surprised to find that it was actually pretty damn good.

"Is this what you did back in Gloucestershire?" Nicholas asked, having not previously realized how positively ravenous he'd become during his time in space.

"No," Arthur said simply, duplicating himself another collection of tea bags. "I worked for the BBC."

"Television?" Nicholas asked.

"Programming director for the overnight portion of Radio 2."

"Ah." Again, Nicholas couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this man from somewhere. "And that's how you met...er...Trillian?" he asked.

Again, Arthur laughed. "Zarquon, no," he said. "She was an astrophysicist. We met at a fancy dress party in Islington."

Nicholas nearly choked. He put the plate, and the sandwich it held, down on the counter just in case. "Wait a minute. Arthur?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, adopting his terribly confused face.

"Arthur Dent?"

"Yes?"

"That woman," Nicholas said quickly. "Miss Mc--Trillian. She's been missing for six months," he said. "I questioned you about her, personally. You were our prime suspect."

Nicholas had been the questioning officer, despite the rank he wore on his shoulder. It wasn't because the Sandford constabulary lacked any detectives. In fact, Sandford employed two detectives. But DC Cartwright had been on his annual ten day leave of absence, during which time he had been helping his father with getting the orchards ready for the upcoming planting season, and DS Wainwright simply refused to do any work without his doppelgänger around, and took his ten day leave of absence to avoid doing any work. At the time, Nicholas thought Arthur's story about the man called Phil sounded weak, but he didn't have enough evidence to do anything about it.

"You told me she left with another man," he continued.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, she did," he said simply. "His name was Zaphod, and she wanted to see his spaceship."

"And the other gentleman?" Nicholas asked. "Am I to believe he's from Guildford, or something?"

"Betelgeuse," Arthur said, as though he knew a lot of people from Betelgeuse. "Well, a planet orbiting Betelgeuse, anyway. Zaphod, too. They're related...somehow."

Nicholas stared at Arthur, stunned. This man, despite being surrounded by countless oddities, seemed comfortably at home with himself. Nicholas was, in fact, so completely stunned by his sudden realisation, that he failed to notice Walker shuffling into the overly-decorated kitchen.

"Mornin', Angle," he said as he walked past.

"Morning," Nicholas said off-handedly.

And then he turned round. Quickly.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

He'd long accepted that the juvenile insults and harassment from the other officers would never stop. It didn't even upset him anymore. What caught him off guard was that he could understand what the old man had said.

"I said 'good morning,' you stupid prick," Walker said as he rummaged through the ship's massive refrigerator.

Nicholas could definitely understand him.

"When did you start speaking English?" Nicholas demanded.

Arthur once again adopted his terribly confused face. Walker adopted his annoyed face.

"I been speakin' English," he insisted.

"Proper English," Nicholas clarified.

"I been speakin' proper English!"

It was about then that Nicholas realized that every sign, label, and cereal box in the kitchen was printed in English. "What has this thing done to me?" he demanded as he prised the small yellow fish from his ear.

Arthur relieved Nicholas of the babel fish, dropping the creature into a nearby glass of water. "It hasn't done anything to you," he said. “They’re quite pleasant. I call mine Max.”

Nicholas peered wildly around the kitchen. "None of this was in English yesterday!" he pointed out.

Arthur looked nervously around the kitchen. "None of it's in English now," he said slowly.

Nicholas adopted his terribly worried face. "What?"

Walker pulled a bottle of sort of pink liquid from the Chill-O-Freeze 9000 and shook his head. "Stupid bastard," he muttered as he returned to the bunk he shared with Saxon.

"None of it's in English now," Arthur repeated. "This ship was designed by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation. It's all in Sirian. I only know what all this says because I've been here for so long."

"What?"

Arthur sighed. It was no wonder why Ford was always so annoyed. The man that called himself the Doctor wandered into the kitchen, curiosity piqued by the commotion. "Oi," Arthur said quickly. "You're a doctor. Take a look at him, would you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm The Doctor," he said.

"What exactly are you a doctor of?" Nicholas asked, on the verge of a spectacular spastic fit.

The Doctor smiled. "You know. Doctor-y things."

Rose wandered into the kitchen, smiling lightly at Nicholas. He tried to return the smile, but he was too busy worrying about breathing properly to do it right. "I'll show you the rest later," she said softly.

"Rest of what?" the Doctor asked casually.

Nicholas shifted awkwardly, realizing that he probably wasn't meant to go inside. "She, uhm," he started, clearing his throat, "showed me your...police box."

"You took him inside?" the Doctor asked.

Rose shrugged. "Yeah," she said lightly. "He's a policeman. I thought he'd like to see something he'd remember from...Earth." Nicholas looked down at his feet.

"Humans," the Doctor muttered, shaking his head.

"Hey, lighten up," Arthur said defensively. "They've just lost their home. We all lost loved ones there. Have you any idea what that's like? To lose everything?"

The Doctor stiffened up, clenching his jaw tightly. "Yeah," he said simply. "I do." He turned round quickly and left the kitchen.

"He's a Time Lord, you idiot!" Rose hissed at Arthur before quickly following after the Doctor.

Arthur blinked. "That's not pretentious at all, is it?" he said.

"What's a Time Lord?" Nicholas asked, shifting nervously.

Arthur shrugged. He reached into the deep pockets of his dressing gown and pulled out a book, which had the words "Don't Panic" written in large, friendly letters on its cover. He located the entry for Time Lord, which was less than conclusive. It said simply, "A real zarking frood." Arthur shook his head as he started to close the book, barely noticing the footnote, written in small text, which said, "See Gallifrey." With Nicholas now looking over his shoulder, Arthur found the entry on Gallifrey, and immediately covered his mouth with his hand. The article was small, but the Guide has a way of saying a lot, without using a lot of words.

Arthur read the entry. And then he read it again. And once more, for good measure. And then he felt the need to kick himself. Hard.

The Guide says Gallifrey was -- that is to say, before being destroyed in the Time War -- home of the Time Lords. There are no known survivors of the Time War, although, there have been scattered reports of a man claiming to be a Time Lord. If you see a man with a blue box, the best course of action is to run in the opposite direction, as something very well may explode, detonate, self-destruct, or spontaneously ignite if he's allowed to touch it.

  



	5. Chapter 5

  


Nicholas left Arthur to argue with a panel on a wall, finding his way out to the main bridge. The ship’s crew were all elsewhere, but the Doctor and Rose were by the main computer, Rose watching in silence as the Doctor slowly moved across the console with his sonic screwdriver.

“This technology,” he marvelled. “I can’t seem to crack it.”

Daringly, Nicholas took a step forward. “What are you trying to do?” he asked, trying to sound authoritative.

The Doctor didn’t look up, continuing his motions with his small device. “Trying to get the last coordinates in the computer’s log,” he said.

“I can help you with that!” Eddie chirped.

The Doctor stood up straight, sliding the sonic screwdriver into his pocket. “Well, that was easy,” he said, grinning.

“The most recent point of origin in the ship’s flightlog was galactic sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha in the year one hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and nine,” Eddie cheerily informed him. “Docking centre, Satellite Five.”

“What?” the Doctor demanded.

“That’s right!” Eddie confirmed happily.

“I could have told you that much,” Nicholas muttered dejectedly.

“Satellite Five?” Rose asked. “Wasn’t that...”

The Doctor grabbed her by the hand and began running. “Yes it is!” he answered, rushing past Nicholas.

“What?” Not particularly wanting to be left alone with another talking wall, Nicholas followed after. He stopped when he realised that the Doctor and Rose were getting into the TARIDS. “You’re leaving?” he asked.

Rose paused, looking back at him. “I guess,” she said.

“Don’t leave me here,” Nicholas pleaded. “Not with these people.”

“Doctor,” Rose said simply.

“You’re not keeping him,” The Doctor returned stiffly.

“I let you keep Jack.”

After a few moments silence, which Nicholas took to mean that he wasn’t going to be left behind, he cautiously walked into the TARIDS, gently shutting the door behind him. Rose and the Doctor were standing near the centre console, when the entire machine suddenly lurched in no direction in particular. Reaching blindly, Nicholas took hold of a nearby rail.

“Is it supposed to do this?” he asked panicked.

Rose turned and made her way to Nicholas, pulling him into a position where he could hold onto the console itself. “I don’t know!” she admitted. “It always does this.”

The Doctor, seemingly ignoring their exchange, picked up a large mallet and began smacking at bits of the console.

If Nicholas were inclined to do so, he would have prayed that this were normal behaviour for the TARDIS right about now, and that they weren’t about to fall out of space and time all together.

With one final and frantic jolt, the craft stilled.

“Shall we have a look around, then?” the Doctor asked happily.

“I don’t know that we can,” Nicholas said. He stalled awkwardly when both the Doctor and Rose looked at him. “I mean, there are these... rhinoceros... things.” He felt ridiculous saying it, and feared that the others may think he was just being difficult.

Instead, the Doctor slid a small wallet into his jacket. “We can handle them,” he said simply. “Let’s go.”

Nicholas hesitated to follow, nervous about what this man’s idea of “handling” the rhinoceros guards would be. Suddenly, he felt Rose take him by the hand, and he was being guided out of the TARDIS and back onto Satellite 5. Their landing had set them tucked away in a corner of a seemingly unused room, only the smell of fresh paint filling the space. Nicholas thought it was odd that in thousands of years, mankind still hadn’t figured out a way to colour walls without choking the living daylights out of people.

He and Rose followed a few steps behind the Doctor, finding themselves in a long, curved corridor. Convinced as he’d ever be that the universe wouldn’t suddenly jump out from behind a door and go “boo” at him, he turned to Rose.

“Who’s Jack?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Just in case.

“Jack?” Rose asked.

“Yeah.” Nicholas considered the idea that maybe he shouldn’t be asking such questions. “You said that you let him keep someone called Jack.”

“Oh,” Rose laughed lightly. “He’s a friend. Travels with us sometimes.”

Nicholas looked at her blankly for a few moments. “I’m sorry? Travels?” He tried to figure out the implications of this. “You two do this sort of thing regularly?

“You kidding?” Rose asked. “He lives for this stuff.” She motioned to the Doctor, who seemed to be looking for something on the walls.

Nicholas only nodded, giving up on trying to keep track of everything. Even if these two did have a shared intelligence significantly higher than the combined intelligence of the last group, they were still half-alien and completely unpredictable.

“Why’s it so warm in here?” he wondered aloud, wishing he didn’t have a jacket that wasn’t his to look after.

The Doctor stopped walking. “Very warm,” he concurred.

“I guess I didn’t notice,” Rose added. “It was really warm last time... or, er... next time. When we were here last.”

“Nathan,” The Doctor started.

“Nicholas,” the inspector corrected.

“Were you with that lot when they were here?” The Doctor asked.

Nicholas nodded. “I don’t remembering it being this warm, though,” he said. “But, we were on the top floor, so maybe they haven’t gotten the new systems up to specs, yet?”

The Doctor stepped closer, making Nicholas tense up a bit. “Floor five-hundred?” he asked, not giving Nicholas a chance to respond. “Was it just ‘not warm’ or was it cold?”

Nicholas shrugged lightly, wishing this man would back away, but not giving him the satisfaction of stepping back, himself. “Quite cold,” he answered. “They said it would be. That’s why they gave me a jacket.”

“Nathan.”

“Nicholas.”

“Why did your friends come here?” He put his hand lightly on Nicholas’ shoulder, their eyes meeting for the first time.

Nicholas shook his head lightly. “They—they’re not my friends,” he clarified. “But the one with the... er...” he gestured awkwardly at his own head, “was meeting with some investors, or something. I guess. He said that they were going ‘on the air’ in about a month.” Suddenly, he knew what it felt like to be on the other end of police questioning. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know anything about it.”

But the Doctor was no longer listening, instead gazing at a point just over Nicholas’ shoulder.

“One hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and nine,” he said calmly. “The year Satellite Five begins its broadcast across the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”

“Doctor?” Rose asked cautiously.

The Doctor was running again, leaving Nicholas and Rose no choice but to follow. They finally found their way out of the corridor, and began running across a large, open space. Seeming to know exactly where he was going, the Doctor rounded a sharp corner, stopping just long enough at a door to be able to open it with his sonic screwdriver.

“That’s breaking and entering,” Nicholas pointed out, following the Doctor anyway.

“You really are quite the moral one, aren’t you?” the Doctor asked. He led them down another small corridor to a wide open room.

The room itself was completely ordinary, except for a very large window, which looked out at the alien planet below.

“The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire,” the Doctor said softly. “Right where they belong.”

Nicholas nervously looked up at the man. “Where’s that?” he asked.

The Doctor smiled. “Earth,” he said simply. “Of course, the geology’s changed around a bit. This is roughly two hundred thousand years in your future.”

“But...” Nicholas pressed his hand against the glass, looking down at the planet. “How?”

“I don’t know,” The Doctor admitted.

Nicholas’ hand was suddenly in Rose’s again, startling him out of his stiff gaze. “That’s impossible,” he said desperately. “Isn’t it?”

The Doctor shook his head slowly, but said nothing.

“But this is good, though,” Rose said. “Earth can’t be here now if what everyone back there was saying is true.”

The Doctor thought on this for a moment. “You said it was cold upstairs?” he asked.

Nicholas took a few moments to realise that he was the one being addressed. “Any colder, and I’d have been able to see my breath,” he said. “I’m sorry, I don’t see what the relevance is.”

The Doctor contemplated this for a moment longer before turning around quickly. He didn’t run, for once, but his pace was still quick as he led Rose and Nicholas to the nearest lift.

“Floor five hundred?” he asked brightly as he controlled the lift open with the sonic screwdriver.

“Long as that horrible man isn’t up there,” Rose said as they stepped into the lift. “To the top, then?”

The Doctor smiled, told the lift to shut its doors, and then controlled it upwards. “To the top.”

The doors slid open revealing two of the rhinoceros creatures, standing with their weapons ready. The creature stood still for a moment, as though sizing up the Doctor before spitting out a string of vowel-sounding syllables. Moments after the rhinoceros creature finished its grunting, the Doctor launched into a sort of retort, making similar sounds. Watching the display, Nicholas leaned in to say something to Rose, but was immediately silenced by the girl.

After another standoff that seemed to last forever, the rhinoceros creatures finally stepped aside, apparently granting the trio access. Nodding curtly, the Doctor led his companions into a wide open room. If the area just outside the lift was cold, this area was downright arctic. Aside from a single chair in the middle, the room was otherwise empty, though Nicholas couldn’t tell if this was meant to be a good or a bad thing.

Almost at once the Doctor and Rose both looked up toward the ceiling, and finding it perfectly ordinary and void of anything that might have gone bump in the night, seemed to relax, if even just a little bit.

“What are we looking for?” Nicholas asked, hoping to at least give the impression of seeming helpful, rather than just in the way, which was how he’d been feeling almost predominately in recent time.

“Anything out of the ordinary,” the Doctor said simply, still gazing around the large room. He remembered it seeming much smaller the first time he’d visited the satellite, but there was a mass of equipment taking up a considerably amount of space.

“I wasn’t allowed in here last time,” Nicholas admitted. “Those... things wouldn’t let us in.”

“The Judoon?” the Doctor asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “Are they those rubbish bin things, or the rhinoceros things?” he asked.

The Doctor stopped walking and turned very slowly to Nicholas. “Rubbish bin things?” he asked.

Suddenly, Nicholas felt very nervous and exposed. “Big,” he offered. “Kinda... bronze? They didn’t really talk, so much as scream.”

“Daleks?” Rose asked quietly.

“Is that bad?” Nicholas asked. “They seemed friendly enough both times I ran into them.”

The Doctor and Rose both looked at the inspector sceptically. It occurred to Nicholas that even in the depths of space, he was about to be accused of making things up.

“You’re telling me you’ve come across big, bronze screamy things,” the Doctor started, “twice, and they just let you walk away?”

Nicholas nodded. “They gave us some biscuit things the first time,” he said. “One of them had a big bowl of them, and was holding on with a plunger.”

Nicholas watched as the Doctor and Rose exchanged a nervous, silent conversation. “Back to the TARDIS,” the Doctor announced suddenly. “Now.”

The Doctor led the two back past the Judoon guards and to the lift, telling it to take them back down to the lower levels. When the doors slid gracefully open, the Doctor peered out first, finding the area all clear.

“I don’t understand,” Nicholas said, allowing himself to be led down a path they hadn’t taken to get to the lift. “Why are we—”

He was cut off suddenly when the Doctor skidded to a halt in front of them, holding his arms out in a protective manner. For several very long moments, they stood in silence. Nicholas felt himself wanting to scream to break the tension, but decided that it might be a bad idea.

The curved corridor must have been dampening the sounds, because suddenly, he and Rose could hear a conversation, sounding as though it were being held through two tin cans and a bit of string. The warbling voices, not quite loud enough to be screeching as they had before, bounced off the walls until two of the creatures finally glided into view. Only able to see out of their singular, protruding mechanical eye, the creatures Rose called Daleks nearly ran into the trio, too busy looking at one another whilst carrying on their conversation about the upcoming installation.

When the Daleks finally saw the intruding group, they stopped just as quickly as the Doctor had, and stood twice as still.

“The Doctor!?” one of them shrieked.

“Run,” The Doctor said simply. He grabbed hold of both Nicholas and Rose and turned them right back in the direction they’d come.

Finally, they came to an area that looked familiar to Nicholas, darting blindly across the wide open space.

“Why aren’t they following us?” Rose asked, panting heavily.

The Doctor threw open a door, revealing the TARDIS, comfortably tucked away in the fresh paint room.

“I told you,” Nicholas said, feeling a bit better about himself for at least being the only one not horribly out of breath. “You act like they’re going to zap you into oblivion or something.”

The Doctor and Rose both stared hard at Nicholas for a few moments. Daringly, the Doctor opened the door, peering out into the open, empty space. “Why didn’t they follow us?” he reiterated, closing the door. “Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.”

Nicholas had gone back to being scared. The other two acted exactly like the things called Daleks normally would blast you into oblivion without granting you so much as a single thought. Suddenly, the Doctor was ushering them back into the TARDIS, making sure the door was closed tightly behind them.

“What’s going on?” Nicholas asked nervously, standing against one of the rails that surrounded the centre console.

“I don’t know,” The Doctor said, forcing the TARDIS back to life with a jump. “But I don’t feel like sticking around to find out.”  
The TARDIS rematerialised back on the observation deck of the Heart of Gold, coughing and sputtering into solid existence.

“They should have chased,” the Doctor continued as he opened the door. “All they know is – hey!”

He stomped up to the Alsatian that had its leg lifted up against the side of the TARDIS, and kicked lightly in its direction. Yipping lightly, Saxon jumped out of the way to avoid contact.

“Who do you expect’s going to have to clean that up?” The Doctor demanded.

Saxon sniffed at the small puddles on the floor. “Well,” he said, looking up at the Doctor. “Where do you expect me to go? The robot finally chased me off, you know!”

Snorting slightly, the dog turned and ran out the door, presumably to find someone else’s property to wee all over.

  



	6. Chapter 6

_  
Time, says the Guide, like space, is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mind bogglingly big it is. Take space, and multiply it by a staggeringly high number, and you still wouldn’t get anywhere near how big time really is. Big and infinitely complex. People don’t understand time. It’s not what you think it is. It’s complicated. Very complicated. People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff. You can be born in the thirty-first century, and die in the twenty-second century._

The problem with travelling in time is the sheer complexity of time itself. To most people, the only worry about taking a holiday to the coast, years before they were even born, is making sure that they avoid talking to strangers, as to prevent becoming their own grandfather, or killing their grandfather and snuffing themselves out of existence.

Simply being in any point in time at any place automatically fixes an event into history – that is to say, it will have become history in thousands of years when it will have no longer been in the future (see Future-Past Participle and Past-Future Participle).

By this logic, one cannot go back and time and become their own grandfather or kill their own grandfather, and no amount of meddling will change any pre-determined outcome.

This is not, however, to say that the outcome of an event cannot be changed. If, for example, you happen to attend a fancy dress party, and manage to completely blow it with a girl, you cannot go back and make yourself say something to change the outcome, never mind the paradox you would create. You could, if you were so inclined, get someone else to go back to the fancy dress party, and change the outcome, but more often than not, your selfish friend will just ask the girl if she wants to see his spaceship, and take her for himself, leaving you alone and miserable anyway.

Simply put, time travel just isn’t worth the breath it takes to even mention the subject.

  



	7. Chapter 7

As they walked down the corridor, the ship seemed to bounce, as though someone had picked it up and thrown it against a wall.

“Oh, what now?” the Doctor asked, helping Rose to her feet.

“I’m never going to get used to this,” Nicholas muttered, using the wall to re-balance himself. He paused, moving his hand off of what appeared to be texta marks on the otherwise pristine surface.

_Zaphod is a goit_.

“What?” he wondered aloud.

The Doctor turned to him. “All right, Nathan?” he asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “It’s—”

“Don’t,” Rose cut him off lightly. “He’s... just like that.”

By the time Nicholas was back on his feet, the Doctor was already heading down the corridor, making tracks for the main bridge. Not wanting to be left to wonder what all the fuss was about, Nicholas and Rose followed after. They found the Doctor, pushing past Zaphod to get to the main controls of the ship.

“Hey, man,” Zaphod said. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The Doctor turned sharply on him. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he demanded.

Zaphod shrugged. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Closing the deal with my new channel.” He flashed his bleach-white smile. “It’s gonna be all about me.”

“I should have known.” The Doctor made a dash for the airlock, using his sonic device to override the controls and slide the door open. “No,” he said quietly.

Moments later, Nicholas and Rose caught up, finding themselves right back on Satellite Five. While still no people, the construction phase seemed to be nearing completion, as various computer terminals and yet-to-be-stocked vending machines lined the walls.

“It’s even warmer,” Nicholas pointed out, taking off his jacket. “Why’s it so hot?”

Rose and the Doctor each exchanged a silent glance before running back toward the lift. Tossing his jacket to the ground, Nicholas followed after.

On floor five hundred, there were no longer any Judoon guards keeping people from entering. The air formed tiny ice crystals on their breath and clung to the unshaven stubble around Nicholas’ mouth almost instantly. He was very sorry that he’d gotten rid of his jacket.

This room seemed to have been the first completed, huge computer terminals taking up almost all of the available space. Nicholas almost asked if it was cold to keep the technology from overheating, but he was interrupted by a growling, hissing sound above them. Looking up, Nicholas stumbled backwards, falling into the Doctor. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted. “What the hell’s that!?”

“Jagrafess,” the Doctor said quietly, setting Nicholas back on his feet. “And its masters probably aren’t too far away.”

Rose moved close to the two men, grabbing tightly to the Doctor’s coat. “If that’s what controls the broadcasts, why not get rid of it now?” she asked nervously as the three of them backed away toward the lift. “Make it so none of that ever even happens.”

“We can’t,” the Doctor said. “We made it a fixed point in time, just by being there.”

The docking bay was still empty, but they moved cautiously across the open floor, mindful of anything that could, and possibly would move out and make noises at them. But in fact, aside from the slobbering Jagrafess on floor five hundred, everything was perfectly normal.

They slid open the airlock to the Heart of Gold finding this assumption to be quite a misguided one, however. Three Daleks had the ship’s inhabitants cornered on the main bridge, closing in on them slowly.

“You will relinquish it to us!” one of them shrieked.

“Hey!” Zaphod insisted. “That wasn’t part of the deal, you know! I never said I was giving you my ship!”

“The deal has changed!” a second Dalek screamed.

“Deal?” the Doctor asked quietly. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Since when to Daleks make deals with other species?”

The Daleks slid around at the voice. “The Doctor?” the nearest one demanded, before turning back at their captives. “You lied to us! You said you were alone! YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!!”

“No!” Nicholas shouted. He reached blindly into the Doctor’s coat, pulling out the sonic screwdriver before running across the bridge.

“Nicholas!” The Doctor warned, unable to stop the man.

Reaching from the side of the metal creature, Nicholas grabbed firmly to the nearest Dalek’s eye stalk, the metal searing into his skin. Crying out through grinding teeth, he aimed the sonic screwdriver into the creature’s eye and activated the device. Expecting to only blind the monster, if he was lucky, he was surprised when the mechanical eye shattered, leaving the Dalek to spin round in panicked circles.

The attack proved enough distraction for the inhabitants of the Heart of Gold to scatter, barely dodging deafening laser blasts.

“EXTERMINATE!!” One of the remaining Daleks shouted, aiming for Saxon as the dog rushed out of the airlock.

“Bob!?” The dog shouted desperately. Moments later, Walker pushed through the mayhem and followed his friend.

“Wait!” Nicholas shouted after the officer, not sure if he should follow or not.

A loud blast rocked the entire ship, stunning everyone left for only a few moments. One of the two remaining Daleks had been blown in half,

“I missed my daughter grow up because of you bastards!” Trillian screamed harshly from behind everybody, gripping tightly to a very large blast gun, its sights aimed at the invading creature.

The Dalek she aimed at seemed to almost shake, its unbending arms quivering back and forth. “EMERGENCY TEMPORAL SHIFT!” it screeched, before disappearing into a harsh white glow.

Convinced that the madness was over, Arthur carefully got up from where he hid behind a cheap plastic plant and made careful steps toward Trillian. “Trill,” he said softly, pushing the gun down so that she lowered it. “Put it down. Come on.”

Slowly, Trillian lowered the gun, before dropping it to the floor all together. “Oh, Arthur,” she said quietly, before throwing herself into his chest.

Awkwardly, he brought his hands up to her shoulders, doing his best to comfort her. “It’s all right,” he said softly, before leading her off the bridge.

Breathing deeply through his nose, the Doctor surveyed the damage. Stomping over to Nicholas, he pried the sonic screwdriver from the stunned man’s fingers and made a line straight to the main controls of the ship.

“Hey!” Zaphod shouted. He ran up to the Doctor, not fast enough to stop the man from destroying the Infinite Improbability Drive with his sonic device. “What was that for?”

The Doctor stood up stiffly, looking Zaphod’s nearest head straight in the eyes. “Zaphod Beeblebrox, you are a very dangerous man,” he said simply, sliding the screwdriver into his pocket.

“You just wiped out our navigation system!” Zaphod shrieked. “What are we supposed to do now?”

The Doctor stared silently at him for a few moments. “Every time you use that drive, you punch another hole into the walls of the universe!” He turned sharply and left the bridge in the direction of the observation deck, back to the TARDIS.  
“Doctor,” Rose said softly. “Help him.”

She motioned toward Nicholas, his knees drawn tightly to his chest. Though he was facing out the large window that looked out at the planet below, he didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, his troubled gaze out of focus.

The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Humans,” he marvelled to himself. “It never ceases to amaze me, just how fragile your species is.”

“We have to take him home,” Rose stated.

Rubbing his fingers against his forehead, the Doctor walked over to the TARDIS, moving out of sight behind it. When he failed to walk back around, Rose set out to follow him, walking around the police box just as the Doctor finally made his way back to complete his circle.

“I don’t know where that is,” he admitted finally, continuing his path around the TARDIS.

“But, it’s there,” Rose pointed out as she rounded the craft. She pointed out the large bay window to what was unmistakably Earth below them. “It’s just, the wrong time.”

“And it doesn’t make sense,” The Doctor insisted. As he passed by the window, he looked down at the planet, slowly twisting and turning beneath them. “This is Earth, at the dawn of the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Humans don’t leave the planet completely for eons.” He scratched his fingers against his short crop of hair a few moments. “Rose,” the Doctor said suddenly. “Do you remember when we went to Platform One?”

Rose nodded lightly. “Yeah,” she said.

Nicholas watched the two of them walk circles around the blue box for a few moments before burying his face in the crook of his elbow, fearing he’d get dizzy and sick if he kept watching much longer.

“What was the first thing you noticed about the Earth?”

Rose shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “It was the same. You said they moved everything back so it was... classic.”

“Everything,” the Doctor repeated. “Even the ice caps?”

“What about global warming?” Rose asked. “They’re always talking about the global temperature changing, and melting the ice caps.”

“What if it only changed one pole at a time?” The Doctor offered. “Warmer in Britain during the summer, but colder during the winter; just by a few degrees both ways. Would the ice caps still melt?

“How would that happen?”

The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment and ran his fingers over the TARDIS as he circled it, changing his step ever so slightly.

“Rose,” the Doctor said calmly. “Stay still.” Both of them stopped walking. “Can you see me?”

Rose shook her head. “No,” she said incredulously. “You’re on the other side of the TARDIS.”

The Doctor suddenly peered around the side of the craft, grinning widely. He ran around the TARDIS to Nicholas, pulling the man reluctantly to his feet. “Nick, let’s go! We’re taking you home!”

Nicholas looked up at the Doctor, not sure if he should believe him, or worry about being sent to some strange place that only resembled home. He and Rose were quickly ushered into the TARDIS, Nicholas immediately finding an out of the way corner where he could try to ignore the noise of the main console. Again, the craft lurched violently, the Doctor and Rose actually laughing as the man smacked at various objects with a large rubber mallet.

Finally, everything stilled. The Doctor pulled on one final lever before sauntering confidently over to the door, pushing it open.

“There’s nothing here,” Rose pointed out. “Just like last time.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor said. “You got it right when we first tried to land. No debris, no dust... nothing!” He inhaled deeply, looking over the vast nothingness. “Do you know what today is?”

Rose shook her head. “What?”

“Today is July the fourth. The day the Earth is furthest from the sun.” He slammed the door shut and rushed back over to the console. “Where’s the best place to hide something?” he asked, bringing the TARDIS back to life.

Rose held onto the closest rail. “Where no one can see it?” she guessed.

The TARIDS slammed to a sudden stillness, and the Doctor rushed back to the door. He held tightly to the handle, keeping it closed. “January the third,” he announced. “The day Earth is closest to the sun.”

He pushed the door open, revealing a sprawling field, grass blowing gently as a late evening wind swept across the area. The sun slowly dipped lazily beyond the horizon, casting an orange glow on everything, and elongating shadows which startled a flock of sheep. Slowly, Nicholas looked up, cautiously getting to his feet. He ran toward the door, pushing past the Doctor and Rose. They had landed on the edge of the field that made the base of Spencer Hill, a line of rustic cottage on the other side of a barely-paved road.

“Wait, this is Sandford,” Rose said softly.

Nichols leaned heavily against the TARDIS, when his world suddenly went dark.  
Sergeant Danny Butterman often would wander out to the edge of the village, but usually he was on foot, and slightly drunk. This evening, he’d brought his car, if only because he was at the station late, and hadn’t yet had the chance to wander down to the pub yet. He barely had enough time to fetch a quick takeaway dinner for himself before the restaurant closed for the night.

He stopped the engine, parked outside the row of cottages, their outlines dark against the inky evening sky. Sighing, he looked up, and realised he was outside the wrong house. Blinking a few times, he revised that thought, and realised that he was at the right one, and that someone else had gotten there before him.

Angry, he rushed out of his car and up the path, finding the door unlocked. He intended to make a lot of noise, and maybe break a few faces, but stopped when he saw a young blonde standing in the middle of Nicholas’ sitting room.

“Rose?” he asked dumbly, certain he was mistaken.

Rose turned around, her face lighting up. “Danny!” She rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. He pulled himself away from Rose’s embrace. “Auntie Jackie said you been travellin’ with some doctor friend.”

Rose smiled warmly. “We’re just making a quick diversion,” she said easily. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, this is N—this is the inspector’s cottage,” he informed her. “How’d you get in here?”

Rose looked up at Danny, puzzled. “Inspector?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Danny confirmed. “Inspector...” He was interrupted by the Doctor, walking quietly down the steps from the bedrooms. “Oi!” he shouted. He pushed past the man, upset that he would have been someplace he didn’t belong and rushed up the steps. He nearly fell backwards when he made it to the master bedroom, stopping in the door. “Nicholas?” he said breathlessly. “Sorry...”

Nicholas turned round slowly, frozen midway through the motions of pulling on a clean shirt. “Hi,” he said, slightly stunned. Slowly, he pulled the plain black shirt over his head and tucked it neatly under the waistband of his trousers.

“How was Calais?” Danny asked, leaning against the door frame.

Nicholas smiled tiredly, picking up his wallet from the nightstand. “Good,” he said. “I think we got a lot accomplished.” He walked past Danny, turning off his bedroom light. “I didn’t know you had family in London.”

Danny nodded as the two walked downstairs, where Rose and the Doctor were carrying on a hushed conversation. “S’just Auntie Jackie and Rose,” he said.

Nicholas approached the Doctor, reaching into his wallet. “Again, thanks for the lift,” he said. He tried to hand the man several notes, surprised when the offer was refused.

“Not necessary,” the Doctor said simply.

Nicholas looked at the man, confused. “You sure?” he asked. “I took you awfully far out of your way.”

The Doctor shook his head again. “Really,” he insisted. “Not necessary.”

Not wanting to push the matter further, Nicholas returned the cash to his wallet, before sliding the thin fold of leather into his pockets. “Would you like to...stay for some tea, at least?” he asked, smiling lightly at Rose.

“Ah...” She glanced at Danny, catching the horrified look on his face. “No. Thank you. We actually should be going,” she said. She grabbed hold of the Doctor’s sleeve. “Shouldn’t we? “Jack’s probably waiting.”

The Doctor smiled awkwardly. “Oh, right!” he said. “Forgot all about him.”

Exchanging quick farewells, they saw themselves out, quickly crossing the small road to the field with the startled sheep.

“Danny didn’t seem very happy,” Rose stated uncertainly.

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” Rose responded as they walked into the TARDIS. “He’s Aunt Irene and Uncle Frank’s boy. How did he know about Calais?”

The Doctor shrugged lightly. “No idea. I don’t even know how long he’s been gone. I had to guess, when to bring him back.”

Rose peered darkly at the man. “Why’d you do it?” she asked. “All them things he saw; you took all that away.”

The Doctor sighed lightly as he made his way to the centre console. “I did your friend a favour,” he said flatly. “As a species, you lot are wonderful at adapting, but an individual can’t handle that sort of stress. It would have driven him mad. He was already overwhelmed as it was. He wouldn’t be able to cope.”

“You went into his head and changed bits of his mind?” Rose accused. “Without knowing any of this for sure?”

The Doctor looked over at her, expression completely unreadable. “Yes,” he said simply. “If he kept all that up in his head, it would alter the future of Britain. MP Nicholas Angel. In about fifteen years, he’s going to stop being a police officer in this sleepy little village, and make some very big changes in Parliament.” Rose sighed and looked away, her arms crossed over her chest. “He fancies you, you know,” the Doctor said before turning to the centre console.

“He does not!” Rose insisted, already forgetting that she was trying to be upset.

“He does,” The Doctor insisted, pulling down on a nearby lever.  
“Yeah, he got back in tonight,” Danny said, leaning against the counter. He listened to Sergeant Fisher on the other end of the line, rambling about seemingly nothing, while watching Nicholas devour a box of Chinese noodles in front of the telly. Even from this distance, it was clear that Nicholas was eating around the bits of beef.

“He’s knackered,” Danny said finally. “Looks like he were in a shootout all over again. It were Auntie Jackie’s girl, Rose, brought him home. She was with that doctor bloke Auntie Jackie said she’s been travellin’ with. Stupid bastard lost his ferry ticket and didn’t want to hire a car back.” He paused a moment longer. “I’m not sure.”

As Danny listened to the other man ramble, a sound cut through the air, like someone revving an asthmatic jet engine. In the sitting room, Nicholas nearly dropped his supper. He quickly put it down on the coffee table before making his way to the window, cautiously peering out into the inky night

“Gotta go,” Danny said quickly, hanging up his mobile. “You all right?” he asked cautiously.

Nicholas nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Just...” he shook his head and closed the curtain. “Nothing,” he said, smiling lightly. “I’m fine.”

  



End file.
